Brian Mattern Poems

Causality meanders dear (near, that is.)
Though a universe to share is far (from here, that is.)
Yet, self can shatter time (fear, that is.)
And spill instant global tears (cheer, that is.)
...

Fated journey, has it been?
Or lucky moments, time and again?
So many close calls, and walks on the edge,
yet I stride on, while I ought to be dead.
...

the universe was born to die,
and on it's way, came you and i.
subjective extensions of fresh possibility,
and this one that we're living,
...

The best selling films are good versus evil,
set in a world much like our own.
The metaphors show blatant parallels,
as we relate with all of the characters shown.
...

being in forward progression, however negative, still onward.
history of the future is bleak. my science measures truth of time.
regret is not a word, but illusion of demise.
...

I remember tending to great harvests,
and praising opportunity for what it was.
I remember guessing the meaning of stars,
playing with mud and laughing.
...

My mind is a worn-out boxing glove,
and my brain cells hardly swing easy.
Though, my fists are a waste of good fighting tools,
since no war was ever fought with man's reason.
...

Amniotic atmosphere, of birth and death alike.
Sustaining unpredictable, yet ever-present life.
Nothing has quite happened here, to cause the human flaw.
Still, paranoia thrives with pride, within a cage of harmful law.
...

Personal depression
over here on my end,
it's an existential fix.
Paging from the ether
...

We call a lifetime's worth of yearning, obsession.
But who can see beyond a lifetime,
enough to say it isn't eternal love?
The moth will follow a flame into battle,
...